


everything in its right place

by cadmvs



Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2019 [2]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Dark Tony Stark, Demon Tony Stark, Tony Stark Bingo 2019, Young Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 04:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19369564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadmvs/pseuds/cadmvs
Summary: Peter starts to hear whispers from his closet, he is intrigued. Turns out destiny has a play for him.





	everything in its right place

**Author's Note:**

> contains small detailed death scene, no major but if you’re triggered by a described body, don’t read it
> 
>  
> 
> square: k4 — dark fic

Peter’s house is the one where he last saw his parents before they died. It’s still the same house where his uncle’s dead body was found in. But his room is still vigourous from all the lights and colors painted in the walls. The teddy bears his mother bought, the model planes he and his uncle made, lightsabers from when Ned bought in his birthday for them to play, and the big closet he never opened. 

He doesn’t use the closet, he doesn’t need to. He has only four t-shirts, two pairs of jeans and one sweater. He doesn’t need to used it. He just folds them and puts them on his big chair. The chair where his uncle used to let him sit on his lap and read him his favorite book. Peter called the book “The One Where There’s a Little Man”, in reality it was just The Lord of The Rings. 

Ben was supposed to read him The Two Towers when he came home. He didn’t come home. Peter couldn’t dare to open the book in read it himself afterwards. It just... sits there now. 

The closet murmurs at nights, grunts and whispers tell-tales Peter doesn’t want to hear yet keeps finding himself intrigued. The voice of the closet’s demeanor makes Peter want to go and open the door, find whatever’s hidden in it. But as a stratagem he created inside his own mind, he awaits for it to come outside and face him. It doesn’t make it less scary to think that the voice is the embodiement as the Satan himself. But the voice is so luring and soothing that Peter wants to believe in him. Peter wants to believe that it’s not a demon, rather an angel to protect him.

Whispers become deafening as days pass and turns into months. Sometimes the poor boy cannot sleep and makes his way to his aunt’s room, only to crawl inside her bed and hug her as tight as the day he found his uncle’s mutilated body outside his front door step. The bloodshed has never once left his sinless mind. 

He takes action. He touched the door of the closet and knocks. Three times.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The former whispering turns into a voice and speaks. “Come in.”

Peter does. He opens the door and finds a dark figure, a shape inside. Almost seven feet tall with the wings and the crown on its head that’s tilted to its left side. Glowing yellow eyes, and an unnerving smile with almost too much teeth.

“Who are you?” Peter asks.

“The question is not to find out who I am,” it says. “Rather than to find out who you are.”

“I’m- I’m- I’m Peter,” he stutters as he speaks. But the dark figure doesn’t seem to mind, almost makes him more participating.

“Then I am glad to meet you, Peter,” the shape speaks and lowers his body to see Peter’s face closer. 

Peter takes a step back. “What are you doing in my closet?”

“Waiting.”

“For- for what?”

“For the day to come.”

“What day?” Peter asks and continues. “This is Nineth of August. 2012. It’s Saturday.”

The shape doesn’t actually have a face, but its smile grows bigger as one would wonder where its skull ends, if it has one.

“Then I’m waiting for Tomorrow.”

“What will happen Tomorrow?”

“You will see,” the shape says and disappears. 

Peter knows this is not a dream. It is too memorable to be a dream. He doesn’t mention this to his aunt, but he is too distracted to do anything else. He tried to do his laundry, or ironing to help his aunt out who is currently working as an accountant in a firm. But he can’t. As his mind keeps reminding him of the encounter he had with the creature in his bedroom.

The clock hits half past eleven, his aunt still didn’t return from her work. Peter doesn’t mind much that she’s not here, in fact, he’s glad.

He goes to his room once again and knocks on the door once more. 

Knock. 

Knock.

Knock.

“Come in,” the same voice speaks and Peter opens the door.

“Hello, Peter,” the figure speaks. 

“Why do you not have a body like me?” The boy asks, very curiously indeed. 

The tall shape tilts its head to its left side. “Would you rather I had one?” 

“I would see what you looked like,” he shrugs. 

“I look like this, Peter, this is what I am.”

“Are you a demon?” 

“One would say I am, one would say I am not,” its answer is full with riddles. “What do you think I am?”

“I think you are my guardian angel,” Peter says honestly. “Because Uncle Ben is now gone and my Aunt doesn’t have much time for me.”

The shape smirks. “Then I am your angel. I will protect you, Peter. Would you want me to protect you?”

“I get bored alone. I only have one friend, his name is Ned and he is not in Queens now. He lives in California,” Peter explains. “I’ve been alone since... my uncle died.”

The shape steps forward and grabs Peter’s face. It caresses the small child’s soft chin and hums. “You are no longer lonely, for I am here and I will be here for as long as you need.”

“Tell me your name,” Peter asks. “I wanna know.”

It smiles but it’s not as eerie as before, it’s completely soothing, in fact. “I did not exist with a name, but on Earth I have plenty of names. When I have a body alike yours, I have been called Anthony.” 

“Other times? When... when you don’t have a... body?” The child asks.

“Death.”

“Huh,” Peter seems impressed with the answer he receives. “Can I see your body? Can you look like me?” 

“If that’s what pleases you,” the creature— Anthony— Death, says. It steps back and lets its dark form turns into a lighter color, not white, not pink but slightly more yellow than Peter’s. Its shape shortens and limbs grow out of its now colored skin. It no longer is just a form, a shade. It definitely looks human, a person that can be considered handsome by many. Its crown is not gone, but his eyes aren’t glowing as they used to.

Peter doesn’t let its appearence delude him, he is still aware that it is not a human that stands in front of him, no matter how much he looks like one. 

For the sake of the small child, probably, Anthony allows itself to appear with decent clothes on it. Peter is most pleased to see the figure now has a body. It’s somehow easier to trust it that way.

“Why don’t you step out of the closet?” Peter asks.

Anthony looks at the clock, then looks at the boy. “I am waiting.”

“For Tomorrow?”

“Indeed.”

“Please,” Peter says. “Tell me what will happen.”

“Patience would be best for you, child,” Anthony speaks. “For I do not believe you will believe what you might see.”

“What will I see?” Peter persists. “I’m not a child, I can handle it!” 

“I am a creature that existed for thousands of years, I have waited for this moment to arrive for many millenia. Do you want it to be spoiled, boy?” Anthony growls, and it isn’t alike what Peter used to hear from it. This is scary. It’s not soothing at all.

Peter can’t help himself but feels a shiver down his spine. “No, I’m sorry.”

“My intention is to protect you, not to scare you, Peter,” Anthony calms down and says, it reaches out and touches the boy’s shoulders. “Do you want me to protect you?”

Peter doesn’t understand what he should be protected from.

“Do you want me to be your friend, now that you have none and you’re bored?” Anthony continues. 

Peter nods, doesn’t speak. 

“Then I will be your friend, I also will be your father if you ask so. I will be your mother. Your guardian angel. Your lover, when the time comes. And you will be mine,” the creature says. It steps out of the closet completely. “Would you want me to be your lover?”

Peter frowns, he realizes he doesn’t like it anymore. The way that Anthony speaks doesn’t feel as holy as it used to do to him, so he shakes his head. “I don’t think we should be lovers,” the boy says. “Aunt May says I’m not ready to have a girl friend yet.” He’s aware that the creature is neither a girl nor a boy, but he assumes it explains everything.

“Fool,” Anthony says. “When you release your body into the darkness of the void and you fully grip the idea of controlling your soul at your will, it no longer matters, the gender, the face, the place, the time, the skins you love or the mouths you kiss. When you become one with the flames, you do as your heart desires.”

“I don’t like it,” Peter cries. “I don’t want to... I don’t want that thing.”

“You are of my blood. Of the very marrow of my bones inside my soul. You will rule Hell,” the clock hits twelve. “As I will rule alongside.” 

Pendulum swings and Anthony grabs the boy from his hand. So that’s it, Peter thinks, that’s what Anthony speaks about. It’s a very scary concept but he imagines the people who died. The fact that he can see them again. He can see his parents, maybe. Perhaps he would see Uncle Ben.

“Do you accept, little boy?” Anthony asks.

“Can I say goodbye to Aunt May?” Peter answers with a question.

“You can,” Anthony says. “But once you accept to come with me, she will not remember that you once lived here.”

Is that a risk Peter could take? 

“Okay,” he says. He goes downstairs, finds May laying on the couch with a glass of wine on her hand. She is watching TV, her favourite cooking show. 

“May?” he calls.

“Peter, baby?” May says, opening her arms to hug him. “I thought you were sleeping, it’s too late for you to be awake.”

“I came to say goodbye,” Peter says as he returns the hug. “I’m going to visit dad, mom and Ben.”

“What- what do you mean, Peter?” May asks, worrying. “Do you have-“ she puts her hand to Peter’s forehead. “A fever? No.”

“Anthony came here to take me,” he explains pretty casually as if it’s an everyday event. Which raises more concern in May. “He says he’s my guardian angel.

Tears find their way in May’s eyes. “An- anthony? Who is- who is Anthony? Baby? Did you see a nightmare?”

Anthony crawls inside, hovering in the air and making its presence apparent in front of the child’s aunt. “Deal is a deal,” Anthony says. “Your husband’s brother promised me his first born. As now I’ve come to collect him.” 

“You can’t take him away from me!” May screams, despite her fear that she just saw a demon. Anthony’s eyes starts to glow and it grabs Peter’s hand. 

“It will all be fine, May,” Peter says, and kissed May’s cheek. “Take care.”

Anthony takes the boy away as May tries to hold on to Peter but she isn’t able to do so. The demon and the boy walks through a glowing portal and disappears into thin air. When the portal closes, May finds herself lying on the floor, dry tears on her cheek and a familiar burn in her stomach. She gets up, sees the wine glass and realizes that she had too much drink. She doesn’t even know why she cried in the first place. 

Tiredness dwells in her body but she sees the clock showing six in the morning, so she gets up and gets ready for work. She needs the work. After all, taking care of herself all alone, in an apartment in Queens is not too easy for a woman who never got married in the first place. 

Faith it is, she meets a man in the workplace that day. He tells her his name is Ben. Benjamin Parker. She finds herself liking the man.

“All hail the King,” Anthony- now in his true form- shouts. “All hail the King of Hell, now that he is returned.”

Billions and billions of soul screams and salutes the figure who is sitting on the throne. It has a small shape, a growing hunger in its red eyes and the crown that used to belong to Anthony. The yellow eyed creature stands next to the King. 

“Are you free?” Anthony asks. “Doesn’t freedom feel like the stars turning into dusts before your eyes?”

“Yes,” the King answers. “I am free.”

All hail Peter, the King of Hell.

All hail Anthony, the God, the Satan himself.

**Author's Note:**

> if i made a mistake, let me know plz


End file.
